Shadow's Light
by Chibipixi
Summary: Chapter 6: Finally, some explanations- Hermione's Head Girl (like you couldn't see it coming), and Draco's Head Boy (whee!) But what's with the strange occurrences? New twist on the same story. Features sexy bastard Draco -R/R and I'll love you forever!
1. Summer Boredom, Ceilings, and Freudian W...

Hey meat puppets! This is my first Harry Potter fic, so...go easy, please? Helpful criticism is welcome. Flames will cook my dinner.  
  
The "Hamburger-a-gogo" phrase is shamelessly stolen from _Knocked Out by my Nunga-Nungas_, a wonderfully fluffy British book. (Do British people really talk like that? It's so cute!) 12 Stones is a real band...check them out if you like Creed, Incubus, and such. I collect funny quotes- but can't remember where any of them come from, so if you recognize anything tell me in a review (hint hint).  
  
Disclaimer: I am not J.K.Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter. The good ideas are hers, the crappy ones- mine.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
"I'm bored," announced Harry Potter, as he hurled an Every Flavor Bean at Ron Weasly, across the table.  
  
"You're ugly," Ron told him lazily.  
  
"You're uglier."  
  
"You're ugliest."  
  
"You're ugliest plus one."  
  
"You're ugliest plus infinity."  
  
"Will you two stop?!" Hermione Granger said, exasperated. "You're both ugly! There! It's settled!"  
  
It was the summer before their last year at Hogwarts, and only two days before the Hogwarts Express would pull out from Platform 9 and 3/4. The initial novelty of summer vacation had started to wear a little thin. Five weeks at the Weaslys' could do that to people.  
  
"But we have nothing to do," whined Ron. "Fred and George are over at the joke shop and Ginny told us if we came near her again, she'd hex our ears off."  
  
"I can't say I blame her," muttered Hermione.  
  
"I feel unloved..." Harry said plaintively.  
  
"Hello, Harry. You *are* unloved. Chuh."  
  
"Oh bugger off, Ron."  
  
"That's it!" Hermione announced. "I'm going to talk to Ginny. You can go fool around with your broomsticks or whatever you guys do."  
  
Just watch them not catch the innuendo, she thought.  
  
Harry brightened. "Yes! Oy, Ron, let's go play Quidditch!"  
  
"*Boys*," Hermione said. It had become her favorite saying of late.  
  
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When Hermione opened the door to Ginny's room, a blast of sound greeted her. Ginny was draped over a chair, reading Witch Weekly and bobbing her head to the music.  
  
"Ginny!" yelled Hermione. "Turn it down!"  
  
"What?" shouted Ginny back, without looking up, "I can't hear you, I've got really loud music on!"  
  
Hermione stalked over to the stereo and twisted the volume knob.  
  
"Good Lord, I can't believe your parents let you keep it that high."  
  
Ginny smirked. "Sound-proofing charm. Or didn't you notice that you couldn't hear it outside my room?"  
  
"Oh yeah...."  
  
Hermione flopped onto the bed. "What are you listening to anyways? I don't recognize it."  
  
"12 Stones," said Ginny.  
  
"And that would be....?"  
  
"This band from the States. Hamburger-a-gogo-land and all that. Louisiana or some such."  
  
"That's the one with the alligators, right?"  
  
"Yeah. Alligators and Mardi Gras."  
  
"Whatever."  
  
"Well it's your fault, Hermione," Ginny said. "You're the one corrupting me with your Muggle music tastes. Incubus. Default. Linkin Park. I was perfectly happy with my Weird Sisters but nooooo..."  
  
Hermione tossed a pillow in Ginny's general direction. "What is wrong with everybody? Everyone's so argumentative. I can't wait for summer to be over."  
  
"Truer words," Ginny said in a muffled voice. "That was my head, by the way."  
  
"Diagon Alley tomorrow should be fun, though," Hermione said. "I earned a lot of money babysitting while I was at my parents' house. I'll have to exchange it at Gringotts."  
  
"You just want to go back to school because you'll be Head Girl," Ginny said accusingly. "Hermione Granger, always impatient to start bossing people around."  
  
Hermione chose to ignore that. She had been extremely excited when the owl had arrived with the good news. Not, of course, that she wasn't already sure she would get the position.  
  
6 years of working and studying my ass off, she thought. All that's about to pay off. Absolute authority...my own room...I even heard the head students have a private pool. Oh...students..oh wait....  
  
"I just want to know who'll be Head Boy," she said. "I do have to live with him, whoever he is. They could have at least told me in the letter."  
  
"They probably want to keep it a suprise," Ginny told her thoughtfully, "Or! It might be somebody you really hate, so they're going to break it gently. Too bad it wasn't Harry. I was a little suprised about that."  
  
"No, his grades weren't good enough.....Somebody I really hate? Like who? Crabbe? Goyle? The Infamous Draco Malfoy?"  
  
"Ooh yes!" said Ginny, bouncing out of her chair. "He's bloody sexy!"  
  
Hermione was horrified. "Malfoy? Sexy? *Those* are two words I was hoping never to hear together in a sentence without a negative."  
  
"Hope whatever you want," said Ginny dismissively. "You can't deny that the boy is hot, hot, hot! Muscles......those cheekbones....that amazing hair.....mmm, he's full of jaw-dropping gorgousity!"  
  
"That's not a word....Oh, I cannot be hearing this! You sound as if you actually fancy Malfoy!"  
  
Ginny made a noise of protest. "Not so! You of all people know who I fancy!"  
  
"You're right, it's not like I haven't been listening to you prattle on and on about Harry for the whole...entire...looooong summer."  
  
"Really? You think that was bad? What about the time Ron asked you out two years ago?" Ginny pitched her voice an octave higher. "Oh he's so *cute* and it's all so *sweet* and I'm just so **happy**!"  
  
"I plead temporary insanity. Besides, I wasn't *that* bad!"  
  
"You were worse. Whatever happened to that, anyways? Everybody thought you two were going to get married or something."  
  
"He was just so...so..."  
  
"Gay?" provided Ginny.  
  
"I *wasn't* going to say that...He was just so *Ron*. Besides...When he kissed me it was completely icky."  
  
"Icky? There's a word I haven't heard since I was five."  
  
"Only way to describe it."  
  
"Let's get off this subject. My brother...kissing....ugh," Ginny shuddered. "I know! Let's play the word association game!"  
  
"Let's not!"  
  
"Oh..oh please...not like there's anything else to do around here."  
  
Hermione sighed. Ever since Ginny had discovered Muggle psychology she had fixated on the word association game. She claimed it gave her an insight into her "patient's" unconcious.  
  
"Okay fine. But I don't buy into it."  
  
"Yay! Okay...um...School."  
  
"Work."  
  
"Boyfriend."  
  
"Trouble."  
  
"Candy."  
  
"Tomato."  
  
"Tomato?"  
  
"What? I can't help my subconcious!"  
  
"I can't even count your issues....Ron."  
  
"Sweater."  
  
"Harry."  
  
"Green."  
  
"Go figure.." muttered Ginny. "Um..um..oh! Draco Malfoy!"  
  
Hermione was silent.  
  
"Well?" Ginny prompted.  
  
"Do I *have* to say the *firs*t thing that pops into my head?"  
  
"Yep," said Ginny gleefully.  
  
"I am going to kill you so much....sexy."  
  
"I knew it!" crowed Ginny. "I knew you thought he was sexy!"  
  
"Well my *second* thought was 'bastard'."  
  
"It's only the first that counts."  
  
Hermione glared daggers at Ginny. "If anybody- anyone at all- hears that I...that I..."  
  
"That you think Malfoy is sexy?" Ginny interjected brightly.  
  
"...I am going to kill you until..uh, until...until you are dead! Oh, wait...."  
  
"Nice, Hermione, nice. I shudder at the thought."  
  
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Draco Malfoy stared up at the ceiling of his room from the comfort of his bed.  
  
White. Silver chandelier in the middle. Bloodstain in the upper right corner.  
  
He closed his eyes and heaved a sigh.  
  
Two days left till vacation was over, and his summer was not bloody likely to get much better than this. He almost looked forward to the advent of school. In spite of the whole Head Boy deal.  
  
His mother had cried tears of joy when the owl from Dumbledore had arrived. His father had given him another scar just for the occasion. This one ran across his collarbone.  
  
It just figures that I have a father who congratulates me by inflicting bodily pain. He says I should be proud of the scars. "Scars are what makes a man," he says.  
  
Draco shifted on his bed and ran his fingers over the silvery scar lightly.  
  
And you know, I always thought it was the lack of breasts and the possession of...other things that lent masculinity.  
  
But of course he had gone along with what his father said. He hadn't shed a tear when his father took the knife to his skin. Hadn't shuddered at all during the Death Eater meetings he was forced to attend. His father didn't suspect a thing. He couldn't be allowed to suspect a thing.  
  
Draco had no intention of becoming a Death Eater during the ceremony planned that very night.  
  
As long as Draco could remember, he had been raised for that intent. One of his earliest memories was of his father taking him into muggle London and telling him, "All these people, my son, all the thousands of inhabitants of this city...They are all filth. It is the duty of the Malfoy family to keep above this sort of scum."  
  
Then his father had sat him down, bought him a lollipop, and told him precisely what he would do to kill each and every passerby. Lucius Malfoy had quite the sadistic streak.  
  
Draco had accepted this for most of his life. It was how he lived. He knew no other way.  
  
But in fourth year, it all changed.  
  
Before, the whole Death Eater job description was noticeably void of any type of actual responsibility. The job was comprised mainly of sinister looks and leering remarks to Mudbloods and Weasleys. There was no Voldemort. Nobody paid much attention to rumors of his return.  
  
Then, what do you know, Voldemort was back , and all these middle-aged Death Eaters were dragged from their comfortable family dinners and well- paying jobs in the Ministry to witness Harry Potter escape Voldemort's rage yet again.  
  
It was all rather depressing.  
  
It had struck a nerve in Draco, however, when Cedric Diggory was killed. Sure, the whole I-am-evil-fall-down-before-me act was fun to put on, and he enjoyed it when people deferred to him out of fear, but he had never actually thought of killing anyone.  
  
Killing was so messy. Draco much preferred blackmail and/or verbal and mental torture.  
  
He didn't really want anyone dead. Besides, he wasn't a little kid any more and it grated when he was told exactly what he to do and say.  
  
So, even though Draco kept up a front for his father, behind the facade, Death Eater membership was Right Out.  
  
He hadn't actually planned on having to escape from his home to avoid it, though.  
  
Oh, well. Off to Diagon Alley, where he had arranged a meeting with Hogwarts' Headmaster.  
  
I just hope Dumbledore believes me and doesn't throw me out on my oh-so- stylish-and-well-toned rear end.  
  
Draco launched himself off the bed and inspected his reflection in the mirror critically.  
  
Fingers through the hair. No need to brush it. Black pants. Black T- shirt. Cover up that scar until the appropriate dramatic moment.  
  
He saw his lean body tall in unrelieved black. His neck and slimly muscled arms bloomed against the dark clothing. He wasn't quite as pale as he was; his skin was faintly golden and he even (to his horror) had a sprinkling of freckles over his nose.  
  
A platinum strand of hair fell into silvery eyes.  
  
Damn, I look good.  
  
Once again convinced of his stunning good looks, he swung a pack onto his shoulders, grabbed his Firebolt III and sauntered out of his room.  
  
Two explosions, a crash, and several blood-curdling yells later, he was in the sky on his way to meet Dumbledore.  
  
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	2. Diagon Alley and Caffeine Deprivation

Thanks to everyone that reviewed! I'm hoping this chapter will be a little longer and we'll see *gasp* plot development. I apologize in advance for the occasional typo and (hopefully not) spelling mistake. (I was spelling "Weasley" wrong in the last chapter. I blame lack of sleep.)  
  
I'm listening to Garbage while I'm writing this, so check them out if you're bored...if you're not bored, whatever. Especially "When I Grow Up", "Temptation Waits", "I Think I'm Paranoid", and "Beautiful". Good songs...  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine. *Looks wistful* I wanted Draco on a leash for my birthday but it's apparently no go.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Hermione Granger was not happy.  
  
She had been woken at an ungodly hour of the morning by a shamelessly cheerful Ginny, had Floo Powder given to her when she was in no state to think (or speak) clearly, and subsequently ended up in the (lit) fireplace of some eighty year old witch named Dana Arrey, terrifying the poor woman out of her wits. It had taken 15 minutes and all of Hermione's charm to convince the old lady that she wasn't sent by Voldemort and to please, please put down the wand. Then, Ron had laughed at her when she returned to the Weasleys'.  
  
And she hadn't even had her coffee.  
  
They will *pay*, she thought vengefully as she tried the Floo Powder again. Oh my, yes, *pay*.  
  
Irritation must have made her words clear because a few seconds later she was standing in front of Gringotts, flanked by Ginny, Ron, and Harry.  
  
After some bickering with the goblins, and producing their keys several times, they were whizzing down through the vaults at breakneck speed.  
  
"Eurgh....I feel sick..." Ginny whispered to Hermione as they rounded a corner.  
  
The car stopped at Harry's vault and he hopped out and hurried to scoop a few handfuls of Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts into his pouch, before they set off.  
  
The next stop was the Weasley vault. In former years it had stood nearly bare, but with Arthur Weasley's new job as Minister of Magic (Cornelius Fudge having been *prompted* to retire by a handful of venerable and well- respected wizards, headed by Albus Dumbledore), there was a good-sized pile of gold in the middle.  
  
Ron was especially proud of their newly-acquired wealth and he took his time selecting money and even strutted somewhat as he returned to the others.  
  
They continued to Hermione's vault where her parents had stored the Hogwarts tuition and some spending money for her. She planned to exchange her hard-earned muggle money for extra Galleons afterwards.  
  
Finally, Hermione had collected and exchanged her money, and they all stumbled outside on unsteady legs.  
  
"Ginny," said Harry, "Are you okay? You look....green-ish."  
  
Ginny smiled a brave little smile. "I'll be okay. It was just the ride to the vaults."  
  
"Come on," Ron said, tugging at Harry's arm. "Quidditch store...now..."  
  
Ginny's smile disappeared. "Oh, okay," she snapped. "Don't be concerned about me. I'm sure I won't faint or be sick or anything. Go look at your lousy brooms."  
  
"Thanks Gin," Ron said promptly and dashed off, dragging Harry with him.  
  
Once they were gone, Ginny turned to Hermione. "Did you see that? He was *concerned* for me..." She smiled dreamily.  
  
"Riiiiiight," Hermione said. "Let's go get something to drink. Then we can start shopping."  
  
Hermione towed Ginny past countless alluring store windows until they reached the Leaky Cauldron, where they both ordered iced pumpkin juice and sat at a tiny sidewalk table.  
  
They sipped their drinks contentedly and watched the passersby. Hermione was just deciding that her day was finally shaping up until...  
  
"Hermione, look, isn't that...."  
  
Draco Malfoy strolled past them, whistling, and disappeared into the Leaky Cauldron. A few moments later, he emerged with a drink, and settled down at a table near Hermione and Ginny, oblivious to the two pairs of eyes fixed on him.  
  
Wow, he looks good, Hermione thought, and instantly banished the words from her mind.  
  
Still- he did look good. Not just because of the classical beauty of his face, or the amazing golden-white spill of hair....He looked happy. Carefree. It was a look Hermione had never seen on Malfoy's face before.  
  
It suits him, she thought.  
  
She was lost, watching the sunlight glimmer in his hair, until Ginny leaned over.  
  
"See? Doesn't he look good?"  
  
Hermione tore her eyes away reluctantly and grimaced at Ginny.  
  
"Okay, fine, he looks good! But you can't just forget all the years he's been such a bastard to Harry and Ron and me. He's a jerk."  
  
"What years? Sure, he was horrible when you all were kids. But he hasn't called you 'Mudlblood' in two years. The last time he deliberately started a fight was back in fourth year. Since then, he only fought back when Ron or Harry provoked him first."  
  
Hermione thought about Ginny's words. It was true. All up until their fourth year at Hogwarts, Malfoy had taunted them and tried his hardest to get them in trouble. After that summer, however, he had tried to ignore them.  
  
I wonder why....  
  
"He's not that bad," said Ginny. "And I'll prove it."  
  
She twisted around in her chair. "Oy! Malfoy! Come on over here!"  
  
"Ginny," Hermione hissed. "What are you doing? We don't want to talk to that git!"  
  
"Sure we do," said Ginny. She raised her voice. "Come on Malfoy, we have an extra seat!"  
  
Hermione subsided, muttering angry things about redheads in general. "Can't you bloody see that Malfoy's trying to ignore you?" she said after a few moments, just as a shadow fell over the table.  
  
Hermione looked up to see Draco Malfoy peering at her.  
  
"Hello, Granger. You look very...er....caffeine deprived."  
  
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Draco had been drinking his pumpkin juice and trying to pretend that he didn't know that Granger at the Weasley girl were looking at him, when he heard Ginny's shout.  
  
He hadn't believed it at first. He turned around in his seat cautiously, expecting some sort of trick...maybe to recieve a great bloody whack in the face from The Boy Who Lived to Torment Him or Weasley the Boy Wonder. He didn't think they were there, but then you could never be too sure around the Dream Team.  
  
But they weren't anywhere to be seen, only Granger and the Weasley girl...Ginny, wasn't it?  
  
He decided to see what they wanted. Maybe Granger had come up with a particularly cutting new insult to throw at him.  
  
Hermione was looking, well...pretty. Draco hated to admit it, but her hair, while not losing any of its volume, had separated into loosely defined curls. They bounced over her shoulders and glimmered with red highlights amid the darker brown. She was dressed in a pleated denim skirt and white tank top, with a red jacket that was pushed off her shoulders in the summer sun.  
  
The skirt was very short, Draco noted with interest.  
  
She didn't look remotely eager to see him though, and as he neared the table, he noticed dark circles under her eyes.  
  
Well, he didn't know what else to say.  
  
"Hello, Granger. You look very...er...caffeine deprived."  
  
She looked up. "Bugger off, Malfoy."  
  
Draco felt the old familiar irritation rise inside of him. It was temporarily quenched by Ginny Weasley's voice.  
  
"Don't mind Hermione. She's just mean this morning. Why don't you sit down?"  
  
What the hell, he thought, and settled gracefully into the spare chair. A grumbling noise came from Hermione's direction, and he let his gaze drift to her face.  
  
"Good Lord, Granger, your eyes are all bloodshot! You really do need coffee."  
  
"I don't -" she began, but he cut her off.  
  
"You! Over there!" he called to the waitress elf. "We need a double cappucchino here!"  
  
The elf curtsied and scurried off.  
  
Hermione looked at Draco curiously, but remained silent.  
  
"So," said Ginny, trying to fill the awkward pause. "How was your summer?"  
  
"Oh, you know," said Draco cheerfully. He really was beginning to feel more like himself. "Death Eater initiation rites and meetings with Voldemort, between all that and the pleasure killings there was really no time for anything else."  
  
Ginny choked on her pumpkin juice. There was a strangled noise from Hermione.  
  
"Joking," Draco assured her hastily. "I stayed at home all summer. Did schoolwork and all that."  
  
"Right," said Hermione, looking unconvinced. "Like we're going to believe someone like *you*."  
  
Draco was annoyed, but resolved not to let her ruin his good mood. The meeting with Dumbledore had gone extremely well, and it felt rather as though the 5 ton weight perched on his chest had been abruptly lifted. He was still a little dizzy.  
  
The house elf hurried up with the coffee, curtsied, and scuttled off.  
  
"Here," Draco said shortly, pushing the mug towards Hermione.  
  
She stared at him for a long moment, then snatched the cup up and took a gulp of the beverage. Her eyes were closed and a euphoric smile drifted onto her face. She took another hasty drink, and set the mug down with a thump.  
  
"Did I ever tell you how extremely, completely grateful I am that you're here?" she asked Draco dreamily.  
  
He stared.  
  
"Hermione's always demon spawn until she gets her coffee," Ginny told him brightly.  
  
"Look," Hermione said. "I've been rude, I know. But can you really blame me? I mean, all these years, you've hardly given us any reason to trust you."  
  
Draco said nothing.  
  
"I'm sorry I was such a prat," she told him in a rush, and took a long, steady sip of coffee to reassure herself.  
  
Draco was rather stunned. He hadn't expected this. Granger must be a bigger caffeine addict than he had realized.  
  
"Well," he said slowly. "I guess I accept the apology...."  
  
Hermione smiled happily at him and had another gulp of coffee.  
  
Wait, Draco thought. That was too easy.  
  
He grinned suddenly. No harm in having a little fun.  
  
"...Provided, of course, that you say 'Draco Malfoy is the sexiest, most charming and devilishly handsome man that I've ever seen' and then go school shopping with me."  
  
Hermione set her mug down with a thump.  
  
"I'm not saying that."  
  
"Come on, just say it one time."  
  
"I'm not saying that."  
  
"Just once!"  
  
"Come on, Hermione," Ginny pleaded. "It's not that much to pay to make up for about 6 years of emnity, really!"  
  
Hermione fixed Draco with a steady gaze. "If I say it, you have to promise that you'll stop being such an utter bastard to Ron and Harry. And me," she added as an afterthought.  
  
Draco felt rather wounded. What had he done to deserve that?  
  
Okay, wait, maybe he didn't want that question answered.  
  
"Deal," he said. "Now say it."  
  
Hermione groaned and opened her mouth to speak.  
  
Draco fingered the wand in his pocket furtively.  
  
Just a little Recording Charm.  
  
You promised, said a stern voice in the back of his head.  
  
I just want to savor the moment!  
  
"Draco Malfoy is the sexiest, most charming and devilishly handsome man that I've ever seen," said Hermione Granger in a rush.  
  
Whether it was Fate, luck, or some freak accident, Draco would never know, but just as Hermione spoke, the entire square fell silent.  
  
Hermione's words were heard loud and clear by passersby on all sides, several of whom attended Hogwarts.  
  
And at that precise second, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley walked up to the table, mouths hanging open.  
  
Draco felt all warm and fuzzy inside.  
  
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A/N:Sorry it's so short, but I really wanted to get it up tonight. I'll put the rest up tomorrow in a new chapter. R/R please! 


	3. Shopping With Draco Malfoy: Manly Shoppe...

Hey everyone! I love all you reviewers. Just wanted to say....I swear this isn't another fluffy Head Boy/Head Girl story. Much as I enjoy those. I really do have a plot, and it will get darker. May have to up the rating waaaayyyy later. But for now, enjoy! (woohoo!)  
  
******  
  
Last chapter: "Draco Malfoy is the sexiest, most charming and devilishly handsome man that I've ever seen," said Hermione Granger in a rush.  
  
Whether it was Fate, luck, or some freak accident, Draco would never know, but just as Hermione spoke, the entire square fell silent.  
  
Hermione's words were heard loud and clear by passersby on all sides, several of whom attended Hogwarts.  
  
And at that precise second, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley walked up to the table, mouths hanging open.  
  
Draco felt all warm and fuzzy inside.  
  
******  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, yada yada yada, *shakes fist at sky* All gods suck!  
  
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Chapter 3  
  
No sooner had the words left Hermione's mouth than Ron Weasley let out an ungodly howl and darted the few remaining feet to Hermione's side.  
  
"What in bloody hell was that?!" he demanded furiously.  
  
"Blackmail," said Draco helpfully.  
  
"You be quiet!" Hermione ordered. "Hello Ron, Harry. Err...um, well...yeah."  
  
"Did you just call Malfoy *sexy*?" Ron asked incredulously.  
  
Harry looked somewhat shellshocked.  
  
Hermione let her head fall back. "Curse you, irony gods, curse you," she said feebly.  
  
"Are you *eating* with Malfoy?" (a/n: The horror!)  
  
"....Malfoy...." Harry seemed incapable of speech.  
  
"...sitting at the same *table* as Malfoy! Talking to Malfoy!" Ron looked slightly apoplectic.  
  
Finally, Ginny came to the rescue. "Well, Harry, Ron, we have to go shop now! See you later!"  
  
She leapt to her feet and took Hermione and Draco each by the arm, dragging them behind her as she hurried away from the boys.  
  
Harry and Ron were left, standing rather desolately by the table. Hermione doubted that they could have moved if they had wanted to.  
  
She snickered to herself.  
  
I hate, *really, really* hate to admit it, but that was just slightly hilarious. She gave herself a good, sharp, mental kick. Not that I'm forgiving Malfoy for it, of course. He's still a bastard.  
  
The words "sexy bastard" invaded her mind in an insistent manner, but she banished them determinedly.  
  
Ginny finally released them in front of Flourish and Blotts.  
  
"We really do have to do shopping," she announced. "Malfoy, you'll be shopping with us? That was one of your conditions, right?"  
  
Draco made a sweeping bow. "Of course," he said. "Even if I do have to spend a totally inordinate amount of time in the robe shop later on."  
  
Hermione stuck her tongue out at him, and he started laughing.  
  
She stared at him in amazement. This was possibly the first time in her life that she had seen Draco laugh, really laugh, free of sarcasm or bitterness.  
  
What happened to him? Why is he so changed?  
  
His eyes lit up, twin pools of brilliant silver, and his golden hair fell over his forehead, casting thin, sharp shadows across his face in the noon sun. His entire body looked different when he laughed, the long, lean lines relaxed, and the habitual tension left his pose. It was like watching Pygmalion's statue come to life, the last ingredient added, this transformation of Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Are you two coming?" cut in Ginny's voice, and Hermione suddenly realized that he was no longer laughing, but standing still, watching her watch him.  
  
She shook herself inwardly, and followed Ginny into the store.  
  
They purchased their books quickly, and Hermione hated to admit it, but there was nothing of interest; the "Standard Book of Spells: Grade 7" had long since ceased to hold interest for her. She contented herself by flipping through an enormous, musty old book without a title, until an illustration caught her eye. She let the book fall open, and stared. And stared.  
  
"Bloody hell," she breathed.  
  
The book depicted a hand, palm up. On the inside of the wrist was a tattoo of some sort. She peered at it. She couldn't be sure, but it looked remarkably like...  
  
Draco Malfoy wandered over to her and looked over her shoulder. "What's so fascinating, Granger?" He fell silent as he saw the illustration.  
  
"That!" she said pointing to it. "Tell me if I'm wrong, but-" and she pulled up the sleeve of her jacket to reveal a creamy white wrist.  
  
With a birthmark on it.  
  
"Look," she said breathlessly. "It's the same, isn't it? It's exactly the same as the picture."  
  
Draco bent over to read the caption printed below the picture. "'Likaelors are often marked from birth by a dragon-shaped mark on their left wrists.'" He turned the page. "It's been ripped off here. There's a page missing."  
  
"Dragon-shaped?" Hermione mused. "I never thought it was like a dragon. I always thought it was more of a...oh, I don't know, a cloud or something. It's a birthmark for heaven's sake." She tilted her head and went slightly cross-eyed. "I guess if you look at it like this..."  
  
"I can't believe it!" Draco was saying crossly. "There's a page missing!"  
  
"Oh calm down," Hermione told him. "We'll just ask the store owner about another copy. Why are you getting so worked up about it anyways? It's my dragon-y birthmark."  
  
Draco stuck his wrist out at her sullenly, and she noticed what she hadn't bothered to see before: pale skin marred only by a shape that she would now describe as a dragon.  
  
She raised her eyes to his. "Oh."  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------  
  
Hermione was looking a little edgey, and Draco didn't blame her.  
  
She had talked to, laughed with, and started a tentative friendship with her bitterest enemy. Then she discovered in an acrcane book of lore that, not only is her birthmark really a dragon, but she shares the mark with said enemy.  
  
In fact, Draco sympathized completely.  
  
He flipped pages frantically, looking for something like the missing sheet. Not only was the next page missing, the previous 7 pages were also, and the sheet with the illustration on it seemed ready to fall out any moment.  
  
The book seemed to be written on magical myths and legends. He let it slam closed.  
  
"Honestly," he said, annoyed. "This book is falling apart! How old is the bloody thing?"  
  
Hermione opened it to the title sheet and showed it to him wordlessly.  
  
"Sileni and Satyrs: An Essay on Magical Facts and Legends" it read. "Written by Euphrosyne Pintar in the Year of Our Lord Sixteen Hundred and Thirty-One."  
  
"Oh," Draco said. "Well I think that we're living proof that this whole Likaelor deal falls under the 'fact' catagory."  
  
He flipped through the book again, futilely, and sighed.  
  
"All right, let's go ask the store owner if he has another copy."  
  
The store owner was a distant descendant of the original Blotts, and his name suited him. The plump, little old man was extremely polite, and extremely unhelpful.  
  
"I bought that there book at a junk sale over by Hogsmeade. It was in a whole barrel of books, all thrown in together. I don't know of any other copies, but if you want to buy this one, it's only 3 Galleons."  
  
"No thank you, we-" Hermione started, but Draco cut her off.  
  
"We'll take it. Thank you for your time," he said, tossing the coins onto the counter. He strode out of the store with Hermione, to where Ginny was waiting outside.  
  
"Why did you do that?" Hermione hissed as they left. "There's nothing else in there! That was a waste of money."  
  
"There might be a clue somewhere," he objected. "Besides, it looked interesting."  
  
She cut her eyes over to him, but said nothing.  
  
Besides, Draco thought to himself, It's my father's money. Not like wasting it's a crime in that case.  
  
He grinned. The kind of grin that frightened small children and sent minions diving for cover.  
  
What I wouldn't give to have been a fly on the wall at that Death Eater meeting last night. Bet Father didn't even notice I was missing until he sent for me. He must have had a load of explaining to do to old Voldemort...  
  
"What was that all about?" Ginny asked when they reached her.  
  
"Oh," Hermione said hastily. "Malfoy just wanted to buy this book for some light reading."  
  
Ginny accepted the explanation, and as they set off towards the robe shop. Malfoy stole a few glances at Hermione as they were walking. She met his eyes once, and he could read her expression.  
  
If we tell Ginny, she'll tell Harry, and he'll be convinced that it's some sort of evil plot of Voldemort's. Best not to worry them until we know what we're talking about.  
  
Personally, he agreed. Potter was just too paranoid about such things.  
  
When they reached Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasions, Hermione perked up, and almost forgot about the mysterious book. She and Ginny loaded their arms down with robes. Draco warily took a chair outside of the dressing rooms.  
  
The girls emerged periodically to ask him for a guy's point of view; sporting identical black robes, they inquired, which was better? Ebony or dark slate? Fitted or regular? Cotton or synthetic?  
  
"I don't bloody know!" he exclaimed finally. "They're all exactly the same! Black, black, black!"  
  
Ginny put her hands on her hips. "Are you *really* that dense?"  
  
Hermione hid a grin. "Maybe we should buy our stuff and go. Malfoy's looking a little nervous."  
  
"I do not look nervous," he said indignantly. "I love shopping. I could shop all day. I could-"  
  
"Oh, you're gay? That's so *cute*. Slightly disturbing, but cute."  
  
"I am a non-gay, *manly* shopper," he amended. "I shop for very straight and manly things such as, er...oh, can we just go?!"  
  
(a/n I wrote this at 2 o'clock in the morning. I thought it was hilariously funny. Now, I can't decide if it's funny or stupid. Oh well.)  
  
About 10 hours later (according to Draco) they emerged from the store. Draco heaved a great sigh of relief.  
  
"Blessed, blessed freedom," he said, extending his arms to the street. Several shoppers passing by gave him odd looks and veered around him.  
  
"So," he said, turning to Hermione, "What's next on the schedule?"  
  
"Well, we're done," Hermione said, glancing at Ginny. "Right?"  
  
"Mmhmm," Ginny agreed.  
  
"So," Hermione said, looking over at Draco. "I guess we'll see you at school...or, well....oh, this is bloody weird isn't it?"  
  
He grinned, a little relieved that she wasn't going to go all polite and distant on him. "I'll see you there...wait, Hermione, can I talk to you alone for a minute?"  
  
She assented, and he pulled her a few steps away, where Ginny couldn't hear them.  
  
"I'll talk to you about the Likaelor thing on the train," he said in a low voice, "and if we can't figure it out, then we can ask Dumbledore what this whole thing is about when we get to school."  
  
She nodded wordlessly.  
  
An irresistible impulse struck Draco. "Granger...well, thanks for the whole day and all. It was fun."  
  
"You're welcome," she told him, looking suprised.  
  
"Of course," he added, "You should be grateful to me, being allowed to spend a day with a sex muffin such as myself."  
  
He winked at her, and turned on his heel to go, ignoring her snort and exclamation of "sex muffin?!" as he left.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------  
  
Hermione walked back over to Ginny.  
  
"See?" said Ginny as they watched Draco leave. "I told you so, didn't I? That was great. He was really nice."  
  
"*Too* nice," said Hermione darkly. "I'll bet he's planning something really evil, just wait and see."  
  
Oh, it wasn't any use. She didn't even believe herself.  
  
"What did he want to talk to you about?" Ginny asked curiously.  
  
"Oh," Hermione said. "He professed his undying love to me and offered to whisk me away to Hawaii on a romantic love voyage."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"What, you didn't see the flying pigs?" She sighed at Ginny's confused look. "Nevermind."  
  
"I'll take that as a 'no'."  
  
"Please do."  
  
They set off to find Harry and Ron and return to the Weasleys'. Hermione just hoped they wouldn't be too mad about the whole Malfoy thing.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------  
  
(a/n: Well, I can't write any more tonight. I'm so depressed because I just read ColdCoffeeEyes25's "Roman Holiday". I'm so bad in comparison. I want to go crawl under a rock and shrivel up. But! I'll update soon!) 


	4. In Which We Smell A Plot

Hey everyone! I wanna say thanks to all my scrumptious reviewers....yall make my day!  
  
Sorry it took me so long to update...I don't have an excuse at all, basically I slept the whole weekend. When I wasn't eating, that is. My summer is starting off with, not a bang, but a whimper. (Oh! But I watched "Gone With the Wind"! *grumbles* I hate Ashley. He wasn't even cute. How could Scarlett be so *stupid*?!)  
  
So, apart from pure instances of laziness, I should be updating more regularly.  
  
And! (hint hint) reviewers really keep up the chapter-churning incentive!  
  
Luvyas!  
  
*****  
  
Last Chapter: Don't feel like copying. Read it yourself.  
  
*****  
  
Disclaimer: No, not even now. Tylenol isn't mine either. I wish it was.  
  
"If the radiance of a thousand suns  
  
Were to burst at once into the sky  
  
That would be like the splendor of the Mighty one --  
  
I am become Death,  
  
The shatterer of Worlds."  
  
-Hindu Spiritual Bhagavad Gita  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------  
  
Chapter 4  
  
The next day, Hermione stretched out in her seat on the Hogwarts Express and inhaled deeply of the smell of smoke, sugar, and new leather that always marked their return to school.  
  
And started coughing.  
  
"You okay?" Ginny asked from across the compartment.  
  
Hermione held up a finger. "Yeah, I'll be...just fine...once I stop...choking," she gasped.  
  
Ron and Harry sent twin Evil Glares of Death her way. They weren't speaking to her. Or Ginny.  
  
Really, Hermione thought, hand to her throat, It's not like we betrayed them. All we did was go shopping with Malfoy....Okay, so maybe we did betray them, but at least it's not like we abandoned them...oh, wait, we did that too...  
  
Once Hermione stopped coughing, she proceeded to ignore them with great dignity. She pulled out her Head Girl badge and sat, polishing it ostentatiously.  
  
It didn't help. Between the ache in her throat, and Harry and Ron's steady scrutiny boring a hole in her head, she felt a migraine coming on.  
  
She popped a couple of Muggle Tylenol (never leave home without it!) and a few minutes later was dozing peacefully in her corner of the compartment.  
  
********** ---- (means dream sequence [ yay, i love those!])  
  
Hermione opened her eyes.  
  
She was standing on a vast plain, the sky above her roiling black and grey. It seemed neither night or day, but the air glowed with a vague, dull light.  
  
Hermione knew instantly that this wasn't going to be a very nice dream.  
  
Ahead of her, looming on the horizon, a enormous metal monolith stood. It seemed to be a tower, of some sort, but no tower Hermione had ever seen could have stretched half so tall or straight. It gleamed with a light all its own, the ground rising in a peak of iron and steel.  
  
It should have looked forlorn in this place, the only feature the flat ground offered, but it seemed that the very axis of the world sprung from its foundations.  
  
She was so caught up in her nightmarish surroundings that she didn't notice the person standing beside her until they cursed softly. She turned.  
  
It was Draco Malfoy.  
  
He was gazing around also, with a kind of awe. The dull luminescence around them shaded his face, his cheekbones high above gaunt hollows, the hair that fell over his eyes made even paler in the gloom.  
  
"Holy shit," he breathed again, reverently.  
  
She would have spoken to him, but at that second she was distracted.  
  
The air around her seemed to stir, then brighten with that strange light, and finally, solidified.  
  
Standing in front of her was....nothing.  
  
Well, a great huge man-shaped mass of nothing, obliterating even the menacing metal tower ahead. It was black, but not black; empty, but then, nothing could have filled it anyway.  
  
The air that twisted around it seemed to scream that it was wrong. That this thing did not belong in the world, in any world.  
  
Hermione took an unsteady step backwards, forgetting completely about Draco at her side, facing this monstrosity.  
  
The thing- whatever it was- struck her with pure, cold fear. Fear that crept its way around her neck and stroked her spine with icy fingertips. An awful, blinding fear, a frantic denial of what was in front of her.  
  
The man-thing advanced on her slowly, and as she stumbled back yet again, it reached out, its thin arm impossibly long as its fingers sought her skin.  
  
Hermione snapped.  
  
Her own piercing cry reverberated in her ears as she flung an arm up as to ward off danger....  
  
And there was a deafening explosion.  
  
*******  
  
Hermione's eyes flew open on the Hogwarts Express as her ears were assaulted by an awful, shattering crash.  
  
"Caelo Ancile!" cried Harry, and he blinked as the compartment filled with light.  
  
Thousands of shards of glass skittered harmlessly over the solid air that suddenly surrounded the two boys and two girls.  
  
"Good thinking, that shield spell," said Ron shakily, at length.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Hermione brought her arm down from where it was flung across her face.  
  
When did I do that?  
  
"What happened?" she asked, and her voice sounded small to her own ears. "I was sleeping."  
  
"Yeah," said Harry grimly. "You were. You must have been dreaming or something, because you were all twitchy."  
  
"Like a crazy person," Ron elaborated.  
  
Memory of her dream came rushing back to Hermione, whom it had temporarily fled. She shivered and took in her surroundings.  
  
Harry, Ron, and Ginny looked alright, but the wall that had formerly held the great, glass windows, was....gone.  
  
Shards of glass littered the floor.  
  
"Well anyways," said Harry, "You kept on getting twitchier...and then you let out this great big yell."  
  
"Screamed like a Banshee," said Ron.  
  
"And then the windows exploded," said Ginny. She peered around. "The glass on the door too, I think."  
  
Ah. So that explained the noise. And the glass.  
  
"And at that same exact second you woke up, and I did the Shielding Spell," finished Harry.  
  
Hermione looked at him gratefully. "That was really smart of you. I don't think I could have done it any better," she told him.  
  
"Yeah," Ginny said, "You're a hero!"  
  
Harry blushed.  
  
"Well, it's not like we've never heard that before," drawled another voice suddenly.  
  
The four of them turned to the doorway.  
  
Draco Malfoy slid the ravaged door shut behind him as he strode into the compartment.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------  
  
Draco examined the area he had just entered.  
  
It looked like a bomb had gone off recently.  
  
He noticed that, while the windows, door, bottles of water, and cups were all shattered, Potter's glasses were still relatively intact, a clean break down the center of the frame their only injury.  
  
Draco doubted that this was a new occurence.  
  
The compartment erupted into pandemonium.  
  
Ron Weasley lept to his feet. "You bastard!" he spat. "Get out of here! And stay away from Hermione and Ginny!"  
  
Draco lifted an eyebrow. "Protecting the women?" he inquired. "How awfully brave of you. I'm sure, however, that they'd much rather speak for themselves."  
  
Hermione looked torn between fixing Ron with a furious glare and launching herself at Draco's throat. Ginny cast a distraught glance at Harry and remained silent.  
  
Harry stood up slowly. "I think you should leave, Malfoy," he said in a menacing manner.  
  
"Potter," said Draco lazily. "Sit down before you hurt yourself. I came here to talk to Hermione."  
  
"She doesn't want to talk to you," Ron said angrily.  
  
"How would you know?!" Draco said, losing his patience. "You haven't exactly given her the chance to speak, have you?!"  
  
"Well I know Hermione, and I know that she would never lower herself to your level! I didn't find out what you were doing to her and Ginny yesterday, but you'd better stay away from them from now on!" Rom yelled.  
  
"Oh?" yelled Draco back. "And how are you going to make me?"  
  
"Like this!" Ron whipped his wand out, just as Hermione intervened.  
  
"Enough!" she said loudly. "You! Malfoy! That line was so bad, you deserve to pay a fine for it. Harry! Leave the MI2 attitude to Tom Cruise. *Please*. Ron! He's right, you didn't ask me about anything. Now all of you shut up and listen to me."  
  
Okay. Now Draco was utterly confused. But, hey, at least he wasn't being hexed by Weasley or The Boy Who Had An Itchy Trigger Finger.  
  
Hermione fixed Ron and Weasley with a steady gaze. "I'm not asking you to love Malfoy. Hell, I'm not even asking you to like Malfoy. You don't have to talk to him; you don't have to look at him if you don't want to. All I'm asking is for you to trust me when I say that I have a reason for all this. And please, stay out of it. I'll tell you when I'm ready."  
  
She turned to Draco. "I want you to try and be civil. It's not like I'm making you be best friends with them. You did promise me that you would stop being a bastard, remember?"  
  
"I did nothing of the sort," Draco told her indignantly.  
  
"Yes, you did. Don't even try to pretend you didn't."  
  
"Hey," Ron said thoughtfully. "Does this have something to do with the way you made the glass explode?"  
  
"Excuse me?" said Hermione. "*I* made the glass explode? Look, we don't have any idea what made the glass explode. I don't know why you would think it was me!"  
  
"Well it's pretty creepy how you let out that yell just as it exploded. I think you did it in your sleep."  
  
A thought hit Draco, and he turned to Hermione. "You were asleep just then?"  
  
"Yeah," she said. "And I had this really weird dream...I can barely remember it...Oh! You were in it, you know."  
  
Draco felt a chill skip down his spine gleefully.  
  
"Okay," he said. "I definitely need to talk to you. Right now."  
  
"Now?" Hermione said. "We can't. We'll arrive in Hogwarts in about 15 minutes, and I'm not even dressed!" She pulled something shiny out of her pocket. "And this badge is *nowhere* near shiny enough. It needs polishing."  
  
Ron and Harry made disbelieving sounds simultaneously.  
  
Draco felt a little faint.  
  
"Is that a *Head Girl* badge?" he asked urgently.  
  
"Yeah," said Hermione proudly.  
  
"Um," Draco said. "Okay, this freaky coincidence deal needs to stop, and soon."  
  
Hermione looked confused. "What the hell are you talking about?"  
  
Draco pulled out his shiny new Head Boy badge and showed it to her.  
  
Hermione stared at him.  
  
Somewhere in the background of this tableau, another shard of glass splintered with a tinkling smash.  
  
Yep, thought Draco. I don't know why I'm suprised. My life just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------  
  
*****  
  
Review please! The amount of reviews given is directly related to the speed of chapters produced. (e.g. reviews go up, chapters get written!)  
  
*****  
  
Update coming soon! 


	5. Glowing, Tears, Pesky Wind, and it's Tha...

Hi all! (Reviewers: I love you more than anyone else!)  
  
Well...because too many people have been telling me to do it lately, I finally read Cassandra Claire's trilogy...and I am in awe. Wow.  
  
But the thing is that one of my ideas which I was very proud of was also one her ideas. (And I thought it was so original! I thought it was new!)  
  
So I'm not going to say which idea, but though there are many differences, anyone who has read it (and if you haven't, don't waste time on my fic, go to schnoogle and read it NOW!) will notice. So I give Cassandra Claire all due credit for having the idea first. Lucky, lucky girl.  
  
I swear someday I will post something personally acknowledging reviewers (I fall down before you!) but for now I am busy basking in all the glory.  
  
Chapter 5: Arrival at Hogwarts and we all knew this truce was too good to last anyways. Feel the anger in the air. (p.s. I apologize in advance for this chapter. I will be hated. But you knew it was coming, didn't you? Nobody said life was fair.)  
  
*****  
  
Last Chapter: Draco felt a little faint.  
  
"Is that a *Head Girl* badge?" he asked urgently.  
  
"Yeah," said Hermione proudly.  
  
"Um," Draco said. "Okay, this freaky coincidence deal needs to stop, and soon."  
  
Hermione looked confused. "What the hell are you talking about?"  
  
Draco pulled out his shiny new Head Boy badge and showed it to her.  
  
Hermione stared at him.  
  
Somewhere in the background of this tableau, another shard of glass splintered with a tinkling smash.  
  
Yep, thought Draco. I don't know why I'm suprised. My life just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?  
  
*****  
  
Disclaimer: No, not mine, but I will not rest until I have at the very least, a Draco look-alike.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------  
  
"...But softly  
  
As the tune comes from his throat  
  
Trouble  
  
Mellows to a golden note."  
  
-Langston Hughes  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------  
  
Chapter 5  
  
"Hermione, calm down," said Harry anxiously. "You're, um...glowing."  
  
It was true. Hermione was bathed in a faint red light.  
  
"I am not," she said, staring at Draco.  
  
"Er.." said Ron. "Look at yourself."  
  
"I'm not glowing," she insisted.  
  
Then she looked down at her arm.  
  
"Oh," she said forlornly, and burst into tears.  
  
It's not that bad, she thought, maybe he'll be nice like he was yesterday. I don't know why I'm so upset about this! Oh, but it was so horrible when they were fighting.  
  
But what's wrong with me? Why am I glowing? Did I really make the windows explode?  
  
"Look," Ron snapped at Draco. "Now you've made her cry!"  
  
Ginny was trying to comfort her, patting her back and making soothing noises. Hermione just cried harder.  
  
I wish he'd go away and none of this would have happened!  
  
"Well would you rather have had her find this out during dinner?" Draco was saying angrily. "That would be a fine scene, wouldn't it? Head Girl bursting into tears at the thought of the Head Boy! It'd fit right in with the Dream Team tradition of kicking off the year miserably."  
  
Hermione glanced up at him. He really did look angry, and just a bit uncomfortable; his brow was furrowed over drawn eyebrows and his gleaming hair was whipping violently in the wind.  
  
Wait a second, wind?  
  
"Malfoy," she interrupted tentatively, sniffing. "Look at your hair."  
  
Which of course he tried to do.  
  
When he discovered that it was impossible to watch his own hair, he gave up and snarled at her.  
  
"What the hell are you talking about? And do a charm on the windows or something, I can't stand this bloody wind in here!"  
  
"That's what I'm talking about!" she said. "There *is* no wind in here!"  
  
"What do you mean, no-" he peered at her, then Ron, Harry, and Ginny in turn. Their clothes lay flat and their hair was still. "Oh."  
  
"Whatever's happening to me," she whispered, a sob catching in her throat, "is happening to you."  
  
She saw comprehension dawn on his face, and then, suddenly, it darkened with rage and...fear?  
  
"This is *not* happening to me," he hissed. "This is your fault. You must be doing something to me, I don't know what! I wish I had never tried to be civil to you, or made that stupid promise."  
  
She stood up to face him, tears forgotten for the moment. "I'm not doing *anything* to you, Malfoy!" she yelled. " This is *all* your fault. I wish you would just stay away! In fact, I don't want to hear from you or speak to you ever again!"  
  
He glared at her. He was tall and straight; his school tie flapped, loosened at the neck, and his hair was blown around his head like a furious halo. His face was all high cheekbones and lean lines.  
  
Glaring back at him, Hermione caught herself in the silvery depths of his eyes, and for a split second stretched to a moment, she forgot everything: forgot to be angry, forgot to be scared, forgot that she despised this boy. She was suspended, trapped by the dark, wild beauty of his gaze.  
  
Suddenly she was jolted back to reality by his voice.  
  
"Fine," he said venomously. "I shouldn't even be talking to a Mudblood like you anyways. Don't expect me to be any more accepting just because Dumbledore made his favorite charity case the Head Girl."  
  
He turned to leave, then spun on his heel.  
  
"Till dinner, Granger," he said coldly. And slammed the door on the way out.  
  
As if the crash of the door was a cue, Hermione's face crumpled into tears, and she sank into her seat sobbing.  
  
She cried, real deep sobs this time, not just in I-can't-believe-this-is- happening shock.  
  
Harry, Ron, and Ginny, said nothing, but she felt their unspoken approval and sympathy all around her.  
  
She cried until she felt empty, then dried her eyes on her shirt, and lifted her gaze to her friends.  
  
"If you make one remark about it being that time of the month," she said to Harry and Ron, "I'm going to kill you."  
  
They laughed, and hugged her fiercely.  
  
"Well, I can't say it's a pleasure, but it's something of a relief that Malfoy's back to himself again," Ron told her. "The world is once again dependable."  
  
"You were right," Hermione told him and Harry. "He'll never change. He'll always be what he acts like...scum."  
  
She wished desperately that she could go back to believing it.  
  
"Note to self:" Ginny said to the ceiling, "Don't mess with Hermione when it's that time of month."  
  
She tried to look innocent when Hermione turned on her. "What? That whole killing remark was definitely addressed to Harry and Ron. I was not included."  
  
Hermione gave her a watery grin. "You know what? I love saying this. Draco is a prat and, guess what? I told you so! I told you so." She shook her finger at Ginny. "I. Told. You. So."  
  
Ginny started laughing. "Fine, you were right; I was wrong. Just stop doing that creepy little dance." Her face sobered. "It's not like it was all Malfoy's fault though. You did say that you never wanted to see or hear from him again."  
  
"Shhhh," Ron told her as Hermione set her jaw.  
  
"He started it," she said stubbornly. "And I don't want to hear another word about the whole deal. Not about the windows, not about the glowing, and especially not about Draco Malfoy."  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------  
  
Draco stalked back to the train compartment he shared with Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson.  
  
His mind was reeling with the events of the last half-hour.  
  
First there was that weird dream...then in Granger's compartment the windows *exploded*...and there was something really strange going on, something evident in the little gusts and whirlwinds that tore at his clothing as he walked.  
  
It seemed as if this Likaelor thing was going to manifest itself in very visble ways.  
  
Or maybe it wasn't that, maybe it had something to do with that dream. He shivered, just remembering it.  
  
He didn't want to admit it, but he was afraid.  
  
He felt like he wasn't in control, and he hated it. Hated not knowing what was happening. He hated that Granger had power over him, the power to upset him like this.  
  
Granger. His head filled with self-righteous fury at the thought.  
  
He should have never come near her. Maybe he wasn't exactly going to follow in his father's footsteps, but that didn't mean that he should associate with, with *Mudbloods* like her.  
  
But the memory of that last sight of her, tears glistening on her cheeks, looking up at him hopelessly, made his anger soften, and the unnatural wind that stroked his cheeks died down.  
  
That's what Granger did to him; she softened him, seemed to tear at his defenses somewhere deep down, and make him forget the rest of the world.  
  
For a split second he regretted what he'd done.  
  
Then he shook the thoughts off and slid through the door to the waiting Crabbe, Pansy, and Goyle.  
  
Pansy let out a squeal at his arrival and would have thrown herself at him, but one furious look from under his long lashes made her subside. Reluctantly.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle might not have been the brightest minions in the world, but they had known Draco long enough to be able to guess the times when he would tolerate them and the times when he would send them flying.  
  
This was not a tolerant time.  
  
Draco flopped into a seat next to the windows, and was preparing to get his sulky brooding face on, when the train rumbled to a halt, and the peaks and pinnacles of a familiar castle filled the view.  
  
They were at Hogwarts.  
  
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*****  
  
Okay, I know that was way too short, and I guess I could have condensed that and the next part into the same chapter, but then it would have been a little long.  
  
*****  
  
Next chapter: Tune in to finally find out what a Likaelor is! Hermione explores her new living quarters, and Draco relaxes in the garden. (yes, I said garden) It's a wonder what a good night's sleep can do for anyone, so be prepared for a truce! (yay...) 


	6. Explanations and Sleep Deprivation

Gahh!! I hate popups! (sorry, spaz)  
  
Hey meat monkeys!  
  
Your reviews made made my day! (I was so happy that I called my guy friend and sang "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" at him until he threatened me with bodily harm.)  
  
I reeeealllly apologize for being lazy and having such short chapters, but...okay, I don't have an excuse. Make up your own. I'm sure it'll be just like one of mine. (only better!)  
  
I'm all um, jittery now cause I just went to Cafe du Monde and had beignets and really scrumptious cafe au lait. Whoa...sugar overload. So expect strange things from this chapter. Or not.  
  
*****  
  
Last Chapter:  
  
Draco flopped into a seat next to the windows, and was preparing to get his sulky brooding face on, when the train rumbled to a halt, and the peaks and pinnacles of a familiar castle filled the view.  
  
They were at Hogwarts.  
  
*****  
  
Disclaimer: *Looks pained* How could you suspect me of stealing from J.K.Rowling (a.k.a. Goddess of All That is Good and HP-Related). Okay, no, the CC's incident was not stealing. I swear, somebody else put those chocolate-covered coffee beans in my purse!  
  
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"The universe is full of magical things, patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper."  
  
-Eden Phillpotts  
  
"Come to the edge  
  
He said. They said: We are afraid.  
  
Come to the edge  
  
He said. They came.  
  
He pushed them, and  
  
they flew..."  
  
-Guillaume Apollinaire  
  
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Chapter 6  
  
Hermione had just changed into her school uniform when the train slowed to a stop, signifying their arrival at Hogwarts.  
  
She, Ginny, Ron, and Harry were fighting their way through the crowd to a carriage, when Hermione noticed Professor McGonagell waving frantically in her direction.  
  
"Hermione!" McGonagell shouted. "Over here!" (a/n: Would she use "Hermione" or "Ms. Granger? I couldn't decide.)  
  
Hermione realized that, as Head Girl, she was expected to make the traditional ride to Hogwarts in a carriage with the Head Boy.  
  
Great, she thought glumly. Just what I need right now. A nice ride, in a small, enclosed area, with Draco Malfoy. Isn't my day horrible enough already? Why does Fate mock me so? *Why*?  
  
Draco was already in the carriage when she entered, slumping into a corner, and staring out the window.  
  
She ignored him determinedly and curled into an opposite corner, staring out her own window.  
  
Professor McGonagell was in the carriage with them, seeming a little unsettled. After a few attempts to make conversation (about the weather), and recieving one-word replies from Hermione (and grunts from Draco), she gave up.  
  
They made the trip to Hogwarts- usually a short journey, but this time it seemed much longer- as they rode in grim silence  
  
When they finally arrived, Hermione slid out of the carriage and was about to rejoin her friends in Gryffindor, when Professor McGonagell seized her arm abruptly and pulled her away, dragging Draco with her other hand.  
  
She deposited them just outside the Great Hall, then turned to face them and hissed.  
  
"You two will be seated at the High Table with the professors tonight, so I want to see you behaving! I shouldn't even have to tell you this, but I want you two to be civil to each other. Make conversation, and at least try to *look* like you get along."  
  
Then she swept off, looking furious. Hermione guessed that McGonagell wasn't so sure about the Head Boy and Head Girl arrangements herself. She definitely couldn't see the professor vouching for Draco.  
  
Hermione walked to her seat beside Draco, and sat in stony silence.  
  
Just as everyone was seated, Professor McGonagell brought out an old, tattered wizard's hat. Hermione smiled, remembering her own Sorting 6 years ago.  
  
The Hat sang its song...different, as usual, from the previous year's, and Hermione let her mind wander as the nervous-looking first years were Sorted into their various houses.  
  
(a/n: like I was going to write a rhyming song!)  
  
She hoped that they could speak to Dumbledore soon. She wanted very badly to know what was going on with her and Draco. She wanted to know what a Likaelor was.  
  
Hermione yawned. She wanted some sleep, goddammit!  
  
Too bad Malfoy's not speaking to me, she thought.  
  
But, of course, it's all his fault. Yep. I'm not going to apologize first, that's for sure.  
  
She hoped desperately that they would last the evening without anything exploding.  
  
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Draco sat next to Hermione in stony silence.  
  
He suffered through that stupid Hat's song, then the monotonous Sorting of the first years. After the first 15 minutes, he was fighting to stay awake.  
  
Well, it had been a busy day. What with the exploding and the supernatural winds and the fighting and what-have-you. He was tired.  
  
He occasionally snuck a few furtive glances at Hermione, but she didn't seem inclined to speak to him, even though McGonagell continued to shoot dark looks at them over the table.  
  
Well, he thought. Fine. If she doesn't want to talk, then I won't even try. She was the one who said she never wanted to speak to me again. I'm definitely not going to apologize for something that's her fault, anyways.  
  
Draco slouched a little deeper in his chair and dug into the food that appeared on his plate recklessly.  
  
The rest of the feast went much as the beginning. Apart from a few professors' comments thrown their way, Hermione and Draco sat without speaking.  
  
However, Draco ate plenty, suddenly aware that he hadn't had any food since that morning. He was so busy eating that he doubted that he would have been able to talk to Hermione, had they still been speaking.  
  
Finally, Dumbledore rose from his seat, indicating that the students were free to go. The Great Hall broke up into swarms of Houses, while first year students trickled in more orderly lines behind their prefects.  
  
Hermione and Draco- now miserable with exhaustion- were steered through the hallways by a disgruntled Professor McGonagell.  
  
Draco had no idea whether they were going to their rooms or somewhere else; he just followed McGonagell. They trudged down endless corridors and climbed what Draco estimated to be about 80 thousand flights of stairs, until McGonagell-the-Slave-Driver halted.  
  
Draco leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath. They had stopped in front of a large, ornately carved, and familiar entry. Draco had been here at least nine times during his years at Hogwarts. He knew it well.  
  
He, Hermione, and Professor McGonagell were standing in front of Dumbledore's office.  
  
"Blowpop," said McGonagell shortly.  
  
Draco wasn't too tired to leer at the name, though he supposed it was some barbaric type of Muggle candy. Last time he had been here the password had been "Raisinets".  
  
The door swung open to reveal Dumbledore, seated behind his desk, with two chairs pulled up in front of it.  
  
Professor McGonagell ushered them in and slammed the door as she left.  
  
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Hermione warily settled into the chair that Dumbledore motioned her to.  
  
She knew that Harry had been in here loads of times, but she was kind of hoping not to make it too much of a habit.  
  
Once she and Draco were seated, Dumbledore fixed them with a steady gaze.  
  
And watched them.  
  
For what seemed like hours, he examined them carefully, not speaking. Hermione barely dared to breath.  
  
She had the grace to squirm slightly under his unblinking scrutiny, but Draco just stared back, apparently too far gone in the realms of weariness to care.  
  
Finally, Dumbledore (to Hermione's intense relief) leaned back in his seat, and spoke.  
  
"Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, Head Girl and Head Boy," he said. "Congratulations on your first day in your new positions. I'm sure that you will be an asset to our school."  
  
He continued, eyes twinkling; "However, that is not what you were brought here tonight to discuss."  
  
Hermione sat up straighter and gave him her whole attention. Maybe Dumbledore already knew what was going on.  
  
"You two are different from most other wizards- both your age and older. I do not speak of your intelligence and maturity, although these are very evident traits in both of you. What I speak of is that, against all odds, you both are living legends."  
  
Draco also seemed to perk up slightly at this.  
  
"You," Dumbledore said, with the air of one who is making a great announcement, "are Likaelors."  
  
Draco let his head drop forward to collide with the desk.  
  
His muffled voice drifted up to Hermione and Dumbledore.  
  
"...after midnight..." he said indistinctly, "..sitting through a feast...walking *miles* to get here...and then you tell us things we already *knew*!"  
  
He raised his head and looked plaintively at Dumbledore.  
  
"I could be sleeping now," he told the Headmaster. "In a bed! Right now!"  
  
Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "You already knew that you were a Likaelor?"  
  
"Duh," said Draco. He didn't seem to notice that he was talking to the Headmaster. "How could we not?" he continued scornfully. "I mean, we have the birthmark, don't we? Doesn't *everyone* know about that?"  
  
Twinkle, twinkle. Hermione decided that Dumbledore knew that Draco was, er...exaggerating.  
  
Dumbledore turned to Hermione. "You both knew about this?"  
  
She nodded. She wasn't so sleep-deprived that she would act insolent to the Headmaster. Yet.  
  
She wasn't guarenteeing anything, especially if she was kept from her bed much longer.  
  
"We don't know what a Likaelor is, though," Draco told Dumbledore. "That's what we need to find out."  
  
His eyes went dreamy. "I bet Likaelors are destined to be incredibly rich and famous. And star in commercials for hair-care products because of their silky blond hair. And own huge mansions with multiple pools. And have hordes of servants flocking to obey their commands. And-"  
  
"Not exactly," Dumbledore interrupted. "Likaelors are not usually destined for fame and riches. In fact, most Likaelors do not live past the age of 30."  
  
Hermione blinked.  
  
Well, that's reassuring.  
  
"Likaelors," Dumbledore said, "have existed almost for as long as wizards can remember. Some of the earliest Likaelors recorded were contemporaries of ancient Egypt. While most wizards know that Cleopatra was a witch, few know that she was also a Likaelor.'  
  
'Likaelors are not born very often. In fact, only 5 have been born within the last century. There is a greater influx of Likaelors during times of struggle and war, and those born during one of those times typically manifest their powers just before the crisis of that struggle."  
  
"So?" Draco muttered. "We still don't know what the hell you're talking about."  
  
Hermione ignored Draco and leaned forward eagerly. "You said 'powers', Headmaster?"  
  
He smiled at her. "Yes. Likaelors are born with powers not usual to normal witches and wizards. Little is known about these powers, but most of them have to do with control over the natural world, without the use of conventional magic. For example, a Likaelor might be able to control the weather, lift objects, or do anything to manipulate the space/time continuum, but he or she would not be able to, say, control people themselves. They would not be able to create objects either."  
  
"Huh?" said Draco intelligently.  
  
Dumbledore ignored him and continued.  
  
"Likaelor magic is done without the use of a wand, although some find that 'totems' they obtain will increase their power. When they are aware and fully in control of their powers, Likaelors rival even the best witches and wizards.'  
  
'The areas in which they have the most strength are illusion spells, and combat magic. They also have a legendary ability to heal. Some have been rumoured to be able to bring patients back from the brink of death.'  
  
He paused for breath, and Draco leapt in. "So, when Hermione made the glass explode, and started glowing, and I got all...windy, that was our powers manifesting?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "Well, I didn't hear about those incidents, but that's right. When your powers begin manifesting, you will have no control over them at first. That doesn't come until later. For a few months you will probably have outbreaks of magic whenever you feel strong emotion."  
  
He peered at Hermione and Draco. "Although," he amended, "it may take longer. You haven't had any strange dreams or visions lately, have you?"  
  
Hermione shot an uneasy glance at Draco. He had never gotten around to telling her just what he had to talk to her about. But he had said it was about her dream.  
  
"Well I have," she said slowly.  
  
"Me too," said Draco.  
  
Dumbledore seemed a great deal more serious suddenly. "Tell me about it," he urged.  
  
Hermione glanced again at Draco, and proceeded to tell the Headmaster about her dream.  
  
She was careful to include every detail. Something about Dumbledore's look made her think it was important.  
  
When she was finished, Draco turned to her in shock.  
  
"That was my dream," he said.  
  
"What?" Hermione asked. Her brain seemed numb.  
  
"That was the same dream I had! You were in mine, too. And I heard the explosion from your compartment just as I woke up."  
  
They looked at each other in silence, then turned back to Dumbledore expectantly.  
  
He sat back in his chair and surveyed them. "Well." he said. "This is a little sooner than I expected, but..."  
  
"What's going on now?" Draco asked peevishly. "Some more good news? I can't possibly be more of a freak than I already am, so go ahead."  
  
"You both are approaching your Trials," Dumbledore told them.  
  
Hermione and Draco sported identical looks of blank cluelessness.  
  
Dumbledore sighed and went on. "Likaelors, before they can gain complete control over their powers, must undergo a Trial. They usually dream about it, or experience visions some time beforehand. The Trial is different for every Likaelor, but from your dream, I can make some predictions about yours."  
  
"So....." prompted Hermione.  
  
"Yours will take place in a different world- judging from the place you were in, a demon world. The man-thing you described will most likely be part of your Trial. If you survive, you will probably find the totems I mentioned earlier in the tower."  
  
He examined them closely. "One thing puzzles me, and that is the fact that you had the same dream. This means that you will probably go through your Trials together. As each Likaelor's Trial is a unique matter, this is extremely unusual. I don't know what it means...."  
  
"So," Draco said. "One day, out of nowhere, we'll arrive at some demon- world to fight this bloody great shape of *emptiness*? And there's nothing we can do to prepare for this? And there's no guarantee that we'll even survive?!"  
  
He let his head fall back. "Why me?" he asked the ceiling. "I was happy. I was in control of my life. Why?"  
  
"Draco," said the Headmaster gently. "Remember what we talked about at Diagon Alley a few days ago? Maybe this is how you are supposed to fight for us. Maybe this is why you couldn't obey your father."  
  
Hermione watched, wide-eyed. She didn't know what Dumbledore was talking about, but she was sure that it was a clue to Draco's changed behavior.  
  
She could figure it out later. Her brain had been working overtime today and she could barely process everything Dumbledore was telling them.  
  
Draco didn't say anything in reply; he just sat still, staring down at the desk before him.  
  
Hermione thought of a question. "Headmaster?" she asked, "Draco's right. Why us? I mean, why do we have these powers and not, say, Harry Potter?"  
  
"I think the best theory," Dumbledore replied, "is that it is a hereditary thing. Draco was most likely born as a Likaelor because of his wizarding bloodline."  
  
Draco attempted a smirk half-heartedly.  
  
"You, on the other hand," Dumbledore continued, "present more of a puzzle. Since you were born to Muggle parents, it isn't genetics in your case."  
  
He smiled at her suddenly. "My guess is that you are the beginning of such a bloodline as Draco's. Powers have been known to spring up unexpectedly before. I believe that you are the beginning of a great and talented generation of witches and wizards, such as yourself."  
  
Hermione blushed.  
  
A girl could really get used to this, she thought.  
  
"Now," Dumbledore said sternly, "no more questions for tonight. You two are almost asleep already. Professor McGonagell will show you to your rooms. Good night!"  
  
"Good night," Hermione and Draco murmered back, and they were escorted from Dumbledore's office by McGonagell.  
  
She led them through the halls. They followed docilely, being too tired to protest.  
  
Just when Hermione had decided to collapse in the center of the corridor, McGonagell halted in front of a large painting...Hermione couldn't quite make it out....  
  
"This is your portrait hole," she said, "You can decide on a password in the morning."  
  
McGonagell tapped the painting with her wand and it swung open silently to reveal a darkened room.  
  
"Draco, your room is that way," she said, gesturing, "and Hermione, yours is over there."  
  
Hermione crossed the room automatically, not stopping to say goodnight.  
  
When she came to the red and gold door to her room, she pushed it open, and collapsed on the bed into a heavy and dreamless sleep.  
  
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*Looks back over pages* Dear Lord, that was long. It sucked too. But that's just because I needed to get all the boring explanations out of the way.  
  
It seems kind of cheesy, doesn't it? I don't know. Tell me in a review?  
  
*Is grumpy* I stayed up until midnight finishing that. (Well the cafe au lait helped) Appreciate it, darn you.  
  
God, Dumbledore (I am so sick of typing his name!) talked a lot, didn't he? Curse him.  
  
Soo now that the ultimate boring chapter is out of the way, on to the good stuff!  
  
*****  
  
Next Chapter: I know, I know, I promised this in Chapter 6, but did you see how bloody long it was? Hermione wakes up (finally!), explores, la la la. Draco relaxes in the afore-mentioned garden. (It's a cool garden, I promise) Aaaaaand, how could they not have a truce after all this? They're not *stupid*, you know.  
  
*****  
  
Oh and P.S.  
  
I have to acknowledge Kaitlyn, or she'll strangle me...or throw a crow at me...or some such.  
  
So I'm acknowledging her.  
  
Ta-da.  
  
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Reviewers get my undying love and gratitude! *pauses* So what if it's not money? Deal with it. Sheesh. 


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